Chapter 53: Hightower

In the North...

Moat Cailin…

Different POVs

All those who were still alive from the Riverlands army were in chains in enclosures made outside the fortress walls with many soldiers standing guard. According to their accounts, slightly more than ten thousand men had survived, although their conditions were not of the best. There were numerous knights from the most important families of those lands, and besides them, there was also the king, so Jon was sure that he will be able to demand a high ransom for them.

And now he went to the most valuable man in the army, to discuss the reasons why he came here, and especially to show him his sister who was being brought here by Daenerys and the guards.

Upon entering the room that was assigned to him and which also serves as his prison because there were no large windows from which he could escape, Jon saw the King sitting on the floor, knees to his chest and somewhat shaking. He had been almost completely undressed, leaving only his scrubs and pants on. On his wrists and ankles, there were chains, instead.

Grabbing a chair that was there, Jon sat down, and with his legs crossed, and hands intertwined, he went straight to the point without twisting words, "Why did you march on the North, King Edmure?"

"For my sister," the man replied, stammering, but not looking up at him.

"For your sister, you say, eh? Didn't you do it for your daughter? With the hope of putting her on the northern throne?" asked Jon, setting down his foot, and with the elbows on his legs, he leaned forward, and apparently, this question caught the trout's attention. "What is it, King Tully? Did you really think I would never found out?"

The King of the Riverlands, rising with great effort, said through clenched and angry teeth, "If you have touched her-"

"What are you going to do?" chuckled Jon standing up, before pushing the man to the ground, and pressing him down with his knee, Jon leaned down, saying, "You brought twenty-five thousand men to the slaughter for nothing. You didn't free your sister. You didn't save your bastard daughter. And you didn't capture me."

Getting up, Jon stood back for a moment, and looking toward the small window that showed the sky and the dragon flying out there, he said, "You know, when I was a child I imagined being another kind of king. I wanted to be a good king, a just and honorable king. Peaceful even. But the world didn't agree with that kind of king. To be able to defend my kingdom and those I love the most I had to become someone else. I had to become something else. Cruel and ruthless."

"Where is she?"

"You know. Your invasion gave me the perfect excuse to extend my borders south and now I have full control of the entrance to the Kingsroad and the Twins."

"Where is she?" asked Tully again, looking at him crookedly, but before he could answer they hear the door open and Daenerys with SmallJon, enter with a chained, frightened, and confused Catelyn Tully.

"Oh, there's my queen who brought your sister," Jon said, approaching Daenerys, and kissing her passionately, before turning to Tully and saying. "Know that everything that happened to her is because she tried to play with the wrong bastard, who was far more dangerous than me."

With that, he took Daenerys by the hand and left the room, but once outside, he said, "I want trusted guards standing outside it."

SmallJon nodded, walking away, as they began to head towards their rooms assigned by Maegor.

Edmure was stunned, motionless, and speechless at seeing his sister in that state. She no longer looked like the woman of a few months ago when they met secretly in White Harbor. Now she looked like an empty shell, a ghost. Her skin was marked with what looked like scars. Her eyes were no longer bright, but almost soulless. And her reddish hair, once thick and beautiful, was now a mess and he could see the glimpse of a few white strands.

"Catelyn," he said softly, starting to approach her, slowly and with steps that the chains allowed. His sister didn't move an inch but continuing to keep her gaze fixed on the ground, while her hands were intertwined down below her belly.

When he was only a few inches from her, Edmure called her again, "Cat," while at the same time he tried to raise his hand and touch her face, but she immediately stepped back, before falling to the ground and bursting into silent tears. Edmure immediately bent down, trying to hug her, but she pushed him away hard, mumbling meaningless words.

"Catelyn!" he shouted this time, grabbing her shoulders and she looked at him frightened and with widened eyes, starting to tremble like a leaf, and Edmure hugged her, and at the same time crying with his sister.

A few moments later, he heard her say, "He was a monster. I-I t-though that I can fool him, but," she stopped, sobbing in his arms, squeezing his shirt. "He was a monster."

"Who, Catelyn? Who did this to you?" he asked, lifting up her face so that he may look in her eyes.

Before heading to the feast to celebrate the victory against the south, Jon asked for a hot bath to be prepared, and now they were in it, with Daenerys leaning against him. An extremely pleasant feeling.

"I hope we won't stay here too long," Daenerys said, shifting in her position, making his cock stir because of her ass resting on it, and as he was hugging her close behind and smelling her scent that he has missed too much in the past few months. "I want to hold our children again, Jon."

"I want that too," Jon whispered, wandering his hands over her soft body receiving moans from her, and at the same time, causing his cock, which had hardened, to go between her thighs caressing her pussy in this way. Holding her close he said, "Tomorrow, at first light, we leave for Winterfell. In a little over two weeks, we will reach it."

"I've missed you during these long months," she whispered, intertwining her hands with his, and lifting them up, as the water was dripping. "So alone in an empty bed with nothing to keep me warm beside the furs and the fire in my heart."

"I've missed you, too. Your kisses. Your smiles. Your silver-gold locks. Your warm, and welcoming cunt," he said, giving kisses, and placing his hand on her cunt, receiving moans of pleasure from her.

"I love you," she whispered tilting her head up, her lips resting on his, giving the start to a slow, passionate kiss. Doom was coming against them, and that's why he intended to enjoy every moment he spent with his beautiful wife and soon with their little pups.

"I love you too," Jon replied, continuing to kiss her, and at the same time groping her breasts.

Daenerys moaned into his mouth as he stroked her cunt inside the water, and with closed eyes, she tried to say, "They are waiting for us, my king."

"Let them wait. The king has more important things to do," he replied and picking her up in his arm the way people call it the bride way, Jon stood up, receiving a gasp from his beautiful wife, followed by giggles, which were music for his ears.

Wet and naked, his cock straight hard as a sword and her erected, hard nipples scratching his chest, kissing, Jon brought her to the bed, slowly so that he won't slip on the floor and drop his wife. When he got there, he placed Dany on the furs that were over the bed, breaking the kiss and settling himself between her legs.

Jon looked at her for a moment with lusted eyes, seeing her smirk, and bring up one of her hands, caressing his lower lips with her thumb, and Jon sucked it. His cock touching her wet slit, as he leaned down to kiss her, however releasing a gasp when she grabbed his cock, and started to stroke him.

She moaned in his mouth, stroking him a few more times, before bringing it to her entrance, "Inside me. Now." She whispered, and with one thrust he entered inside her, making Daenerys gasp and ark her back.

Continuing kissing her, Jon started to move his hips, slowly and firmly savoring the moment and his wife's moans as he ran his hands over her body, groping her breast and grabbing her hips to steady her.

The feast for the victory had already begun, but there was still no sign of the king or his sister and it fell to Maegor to make the speech for the victory, something he was good at doing. The men were loud and joyful, especially young Aegon, who showed courage during the battle of the walls before the king's arrival and also in the night attack on the enemy's camp as he wanted to take part of it and prove himself.

"Why so pensive? Aren't you happy for the victory?" asked Shiera coming next to him, with a goblet in hand full of ale. She was so beautiful. Her long silver-blonde locks were left freely, but her necklace seems to still be on.

Shaking his head from this little moment of mesmerizing, Rhaegar took a sip, replying, "No. It's not that. I was just watching the men enjoying the victory. A victory that could be their last, according to the king," He stopped to take another sip and glanced at her waiting for to say something on the regard. When Shiera said nothing, Rhaegar sensed what was haunting her, and so, clearing his throat, he said, "Judging by how big my sister's dragon got, the ritual went well."

"Yes, it did, but it seems your king now regrets agreeing to it," she said, unpleasantly.

"Why?"

"Because of the consequences of such a ritual of blood," she replied, turning away without giving him a chance to ask more. Rhaegar wondered what were those consequences as she did not mention anything about them before, but at hearing the door open and those present cheering even more loudly than before, he knew that the king and his sister had joined the celebrations.

Rhaegar, taking a sip of wine, started to approach them slowly, pondering what to say on the regard and hoping that they won't keep grudge against him because of Shiera and the ritual, seeing that they were greeting the men and started to talk with Maegor, who from what Rhaegar could see was praising his nephew as he placed a hand on his shoulders.

"Your grace," greeted him Rhaegar with a bow. "Dany," he greeted his sister with a kiss on the forehead.

"I see you brought the sellsword to our side," the young King said, nodding towards the two loud commanders who were there, singing and telling stories from Essos, clearly deep in their cups already.

"That I did. But I'm sure that once the army of the dead will pass the wall, there will be no need to pay them."

"If they pass," the young king corrected him, patting his shoulder and moving away, while, Rhaegar, turning to his sister, said, "I'm glad you escaped safely from Bolton's claws."

"Me too, brother," she replied as they started to move towards the window that was there. "I would have dealt with him the moment I was brought before him, but Bolton had our father. I couldn't take action against him."

"How is he?" asked Rhaegar, taking a sip, and leaning against the wall, looking down. It was really breaking his heart fighting with his father because of the one he loves, and him not accepting her.

"Good. He is back at Winterfell, and I think that will make our mother glad," she replied, and as Rhaegar raise his eyes up to her, he saw her gazing at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied, grinning, before moving away, and Rhaegar sighed, looking around in the search of Shiera but who couldn't see. She must have already left the feast and he knew he should leave it too, and maybe do something more exciting.

He spoke with almost all the lords of the North during the feast, with some joked, with others didn't, but what was haunting him were Robb's words that he said during the march towards Moat Cailin.

"What is this gloomy face, my friend," came Robb's voice, bathing his shoulder, as Jon took a sip of ale to wet his throat, mumbling an "I don't have a gloomy face."

"You do, your grace. And by where the look was fixed, I never expected to find a brooding expression but a lustful expression."

Moving towards the window, Jon sighed, saying, "Your words still haunt me."

"What words?"

"Mormont," was the only thing he said, not wanting to say the damned name, and taking a sip, to swallow the knot he was feeling in his throat.

"Forget my words, Jon. You are back, she loves you, nothing matter," Rob replied, placing a hand on his shoulder, and he nodded, though he may be damned if this matter will end here. In the near future, he will have to speak with Mormont and put him in line regarding the lusting for his young queen.

"Your grace, may I have a word," he hears Maegor Targaryen say, approaching him, and Jon looked up at him, nodding. "What are you going to do with the southern borders? The Twins surely can't belong to some sellsword."

"I don't know yet. There are far more important things that need to be done in the north before turning my attention to the southern borders," Jon replied, finishing the content of his goblet. "Tell your son that if he wants glory, soon he will gain it against the others."

"I suppose you are going to call my men to Winterfell."

"With all the respect, Ser Maegor, but they are my men. This is my army and you are her only as a steward," Jon blurted without thinking, and seeing the glimpse of an anger in the old man, he wanted to apologize, but the Targaryen didn't let him do it, as bowing, said, "with your permission," and moving away.

Jon sighed, passing the hand over his face, and hears his uncle say, "It's hard to carry the mantle of leadership."

"It's harder to have a young and beautiful wife with a good heart and fear of losing her," Jon said, looking at Daenerys who was speaking and giggling with some of the lords, and with whom there was the young Aegon. "To fear that someone will take her away from you, or that she herself might leave one day, finding someone better."

"No. Not Daenerys," his uncle replied.

"How do you know?" asked Jon, filling his goblet again, and taking a long gulp, feeling his shoulder being grabbed and turned.

"Listen up boy. When you were lying dead in that damn room, that girl laid beside you for all the time. Not eating, barely drinking, and crying day and night," his uncle said, and Jon shamefully lowered his head, not wanting to hear of that miserable moment that made Daenerys so frail and broken. "That girl loves you with all her heart and beyond. She was ready to give her life to bring you back when the Red Priestess arrived. So, don't ever dare think that she will leave you or the children. Do you understand me?"

Jon nodded, taking another sip, and wanting to change the subject, "I will need new members for the Wolfsguard."

"Yes. I heard. But you should speak with SmallJon on this regard."

"Are you really going to leave me alone, Arthur? With what is coming against us?" Jon asked in disbelieve and feeling betrayed by his words.

"Yes. Your mother banished me, and even if you would revoke it, I will not be able to bear her hatred towards me," Arthur replied, taking a sip. "So, I'm going back to Starfall for now."

"You disappoint me, uncle," Jon replied, walking away, and leaving the Great Hall. He needed some time alone, to think and cool down.

Rhaegar was heading to the rooms that were given him by Maegor, stumbling on his ways, and holding himself against the walls of the hallways. This time he had too much wine, and he was sure that in the morning his head will burst like hells.

Upon entering in his room, Rhaegar saw Shiera naked, sitting on the floor either candles light around her, and mumbling words in what seems to be High Valyrian, which, because of his drunkenness, he couldn't understand.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as he made his way towards the bed, falling on it, but receiving no reply from her. Turning to look at her, Rhaegar saw that the glass candle was there too, and he realized what she was doing,

He sighed, closing his eyes, and resting the hands intertwined on his belly, for a minute, before hearing her say, "A shadow that I can't recognize is flying around Winterfell, bring frost and storm."

"It's the north," he blurted out. "What do you expect?"

"And the shadow?"

"My sister dragon maybe. Some ravens. Or maybe there are only dark clouds," he replied, opening his eyes, and rising on the elbows, said, "Come, I want to fuck." Feeling his cock stir in his breaches and start to harden. It had been weeks since they fucked anyway, and he damn wanted to do it.

"Oh, is that so, young dragon?" she said, smirking, blowing of the candles and approaching him like a predator, moving her naked body, sensually at the same time. Climbing on the bed, she crawled towards him, slowly. Her breasts were hanging and moving at every crawl forward. Eyes full of lust and the long hairs left freely.

Climbing over him, she bends down to kiss him, stroking herself over his covered cock, making him groan, and bite his lips at the same time. Grabbing his hair, she tilted his head backward, making him arch his back, she whispered, "I can make your life a living hell if I want, remember. It's you that serve my pleasure."

Releasing him, she grabbed his cock with the other hand, squeezing it hard that almost made him scream in pain, but her mouth on his stopped him from such an action. The wine made him weak right now, and he could flip their position, so he surrendered himself to her right now.

Opening his tunic and pulling down his breaches, Shiera grabbed his cock, starting to stroke him fastly before taking his hard member inside her warm mouth and starting to pleasure him, as Rhaegar groaned, squeezing with one hand the furs and with the other trying to grab her hairs, but she pushed it away. By the Old Gods. This woman is his downfall in every way.

On the road to Winterfell...

Ellaria Sand POV

It had been a few days since they had left White Harbour, with a few men from their escort who accompanied them from Dorne, and some knights from House Manderly. The civil war that erupted in the North ended with the victory of the young king it seemed, and that was good for them, but there was also the possibility that he would be defeated by the southern army coming from the Riverlands according to their sources.

"I hate this place. It's cold, wild, and unwelcoming," Tyene groaned in complaint, breaking her thoughts. The girl had accompanied her to the North against her will.

"You always have something to complain about. The ship, the land, the weather. Perhaps your mother made you too soft," replied Obara, sharpening her spear, and everyone accompanying her began to laugh, Ellaria herself, but when he saw her get up, he stopped her. "Enough, girls."

Obara smirked, and so did Nymeria, while, she, continued, "In a few hours we will reach Winterfell, and you will have a chance to rest in a warm room and on a soft bed."

"Or we'll freeze before we get there," groaned Tyene, sighing, and approaching more the bonfire, stroking her hands.

"So, Ellaria. Do you think we will succeed in this task, or the young king will deny us?" asked Nymeria, coiling her whip.

"I think we will succeed. It's in his interest too to get an ally in the south should one day wants to reclaim the seven kingdoms in his wife's name."

"Targaryen. Damn them all," cursed Obara, placing the spear aside, and lying on the cold ground of the north, as Ellaria feel some snowflakes, pass her eyes. This wasn't good for them. Wasn't good at all.

"Get some Rest."

Winterfell...

Rhaella Targaryen POV

Rhaella was getting ready for the day, despite not having busy manse beside tending to her grandchildren, something that she is doing with great pleasure. She knew that the moment Daenerys and Jon will be back, she will go to Dragon castle, to run it, and who knows when she will see them again.

But besides that, there was something else that she needs to do. Or to speak about. So, taking the fur cloak, Rhaella left the warm chambers, heading outside the keep.

Looking up, the sky was still cloudy, the air was chilling and the men on alert. Everyone who was inside the great castle feared the beast that attacked them for the past weeks, and only the Gods know what it was. She was sure that it was a dragon, but her husband said that it was not possible.

Rhaella asked to the soldiers where her husband was, and when she reached the northern Gates, she saw him leaning against the wall, looking deeply forward. It was as her dream was becoming true and she really didn't want for it to happen.

"What is this gloomy face, brother?" she asked, climbing the stairs up, and he jolted, glancing at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you."

"You didn't," he said without smiling, returning his attention back on the horizon. The land outside was covered with light snow, as some of the wildings and the people of Winterfell were working the prepare the defenses of the north by making trenches and some walls of wood and stone.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?" Rhaella asked glancing at him.

"The past, the present and the future of the Kingdom," he said, never looking at her, and Rhaella was waiting patiently for him to continue, hoping that he may tell her something about what happened at the Dreadfort with the Bolton, but at the same, she was thinking of ways to approach that argument, should he not speak.

They stayed in silence for a moment, as Rhaella stroke her hands for a moment, and blow hot breath on them to warm them. Indeed, the coldness could be felt more now than in the previous month and years.

"I think that once Jon and Daenerys are back, I will have to leave for the Wall again?"

"What?" she asked immediately, looking at him. "What do you mean by 'Leave for the Wall'."

"My banishment from the queen is still on. As well as Rhaegar's appointment as Hand of the King and Lord of the Dragon Castle," her husband replied, turning his attention fully at her. Furrowed eyebrow, cold expression, and deep purple eyes were gazing at her, as Rhaella was trying to find the right words to make him desist from such a foolish.

Swallowing, Rhaella approaches him, and glancing down for a moment, said, "You don't have to do it. I will speak with our daughter to revoke the banishment, and-"

"She will never do that because she knows that I will never allow for Rhaegar to marry that sorceress bastard."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust her," he replied, returning his attention on the outside of Winterfell. Rhaella sighed, not knowing what else she may say to change his mind on this regard, but as she was ready to leave, she hears Aerys say, "What the hell is happening?"

And turning around, she saw riders coming at great speed towards Winterfell and hears a roar in the sky, as a storm of snow was fastly approaching them. Did the dead come so fast? She wondered as her husband was trying to cover her from the storm.

In the South...

Castamere…

Myrcella Baratheon POV

With a loud groan, Gerion spilled deep inside her, bending down and kiss her passionately, before pulling out and rolling off of her, lying next to her panting, with crossed hands behind his head, looking up.

Myrcella on the other hand was smiling to herself after this magnificent and long night of passion, and at the same time prying to the Seven that his seed take roots and she got pregnant quickly so that she could bear a healthy son soon.

Sighing, she runs her hand down over her sweated forms, feeling how her juice mixed with his seed were dripping down from her cunt. She wanted to remember this because today was the day of his departure, and she didn't know when it will be the next time, she will see him again.

Glancing at him for a moment, Myrcella saw that Gerion had eyes closed, and crawling closer, she placed her head on his chest, giving light kisses, and saying, "I hope you won't bed other women turning the conquest." She really didn't want to endure her mother's fate in this regarding.

"Why?"

"Because you love me," she mumbled, looking down, and making circles on his sweated chest.

"What has love to do with fucking?"

"Please," she begged even though it wasn't really a begging.

"Persuade Me."

"What?" she asked confusingly, looking up at him.

"You said that you don't want me to fuck another during the conquest. Make me feel no desire for others," he said, grinning at her, and nodding at his cock that was starting to harden. She realized what he wanted, but she won't fall that easy for this trick. If she wants to keep him faithful and make him desire only her, she needs to move wisely and smartly.

Gerion Lannister POV

Five hundred knights were gathered outside the walls of Castamere waiting for him, as Gerion was giving his last goodbyes to his mother, his brother, and sisters, and to his wife.

"Remember to never join the field soon. I know how battles can make a young prince excited and eager to show himself," his mother said, stroking his cheek, and Gerion chuckled, glancing down.

"I won't. Do not worry," he replied, lying of course. He had all the intentions to fight in the wars and prove himself worthy of his father's reputation who at sixteen defeated the Red Lion and Conquered this Castle. "But remember mother, if you see Ironborns ships on the horizon, leave this place and ride to Casterly Rock."

His mother nodded, kissing his forehead, as he turned his attention to his wife, placing his hand on her waist. This wasn't really proper for the royals, but he didn't care that much.

"I will miss you, husband," she said, kissing him, before hugging and whispering, "I hope you have been satisfied."

"I was," he replied, kissing her again, before placing the helmet on and getting on the horse. After one last look to his family, Gerion rode out to his men who were waiting outside the castle, before riding away to where he will meet the great army that his grandfather sent him.

Oldtown...

Jaime Lannister POV

The sun had set, and his army was in position. Ready to enter, into the city at his command. Be it peacefully or by force.

But Jaime was sure they will accept the terms and open the gates of Oldtown, bending the knee...but in the meantime, he heard Dickon Tarly say, "Beg your pardon, Prince Jaime, but aren't the requests for surrender a bit too demanding?"

"They are. But it happens when one decides to oppose an invasion," Jaime replied, glancing at young Tarly, hearing the bells ringing at that same moment. Returning his gaze to the city, he saw the great gates open and waved for them to advance.

As he passed through the main gates, he saw the citizens of Oldtown standing on either side to greet them, albeit with terror. Of course, Jaime did not blame them for this. An enemy army of nearly fifty thousand men was entering the city and a quarter of them were staying there as a garrison.

With the ride that seemed eternal, and the city almost a labyrinth, they finally reached the Citadel, a complex of buildings, central home to the order of the Maesters, who are sent to every corner of Westeros.

With a contingent of men, Jaime stopped at the entrance, gazing at the ones who were at the entrance, from atop his horse, he waited for them to kneel and pledge their loyalty to him.

The boy that came to their camp to negotiate now was in front of the group made of Maesters, ladies, and Lords, and he was holding a longsword.

Stepping forward, the boy bends the knee, "In the name of my father, Lord Leyton of House Hightower, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Port, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Voice of Oldtown, Beacon of the South, I, Ser Gunthor of House Hightower, pledge our loyalty to your King and to the Kingdom of the Rock in perpetuity. The city is yours, Prince Jaime."

"Thank you, Ser Gunthor. In the name of my father, King Tywin of House Lannister, King of the Kingdom of the Rock Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, I accept your surrender and your loyalty in perpetuity," Jaime said, before turning his cousin, nodding, and saying to the others who were there, "From now on, Ser Lucion Lannister is named Steward of Oldtown, and he will be the Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Port, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Voice of Oldtown, Beacon of the South."

"Prince Jaime. This is outrageous we-"

"You will retain the Hightower and the title of its lordship. Your richness, the richness of Oldtown, coming from the trading will be split between the Steward and House Hightower, beside the taxes you will have to pay to the Rock."

Jaime looked at the man, as he tried to keep steady his horse, and after a few more moments the boy nodded, and Jaime waved to him to get up. At that same moment, a pretty lady from the group stepped forward. She looked so much like a Lannister, with golden hair, and a skin the colour of cream.

"Prince Jaime. Would you do us the honor of staying at the Hightower during your stay in Oldtown and join the tonight's banquet that will be held in your honour?"

"Gladly, my Lady," he replied, with a bow, "Lady-?"

"Lynesse."

Yes, Lynesse Hightower. It seems the old Lord wants to throw his last daughter at his feet maybe with the expectation to bear a Lannister bastard. Damn fool. Jaime won't fall easy for that.

Hours later...

Now that he was without the armour on, Jaime felt much more lighter but at the same time naked before this snakes of the reach who will try to suck his blood, and as he was climbing the stairs up towards where it was the Great Hall of Hightower, accompanied by Ser Humfrey Clifton and Ser Preston Greenfield, gathering his thoughts and making the answers for the possible question that the old Lord may ask him to lure him in a corner.

When the doors were opened by two guards of House Hightower, Jaime was greeted by the sights of many guests. Rich merchants, lords, and ladies. And he saw that his lords and highborn knights, at least those who accompanied him in the invasion were here.

"Welcome. Welcome to the Hightower, Lion Prince," an old man said, greeting him, and as Jaime took a better look at him, recognized him as the head of House Hightower, considering he was bearing their colours. "May I present you, my family?"

Jaime nodded, as some ladies and young men approached them, clearly trying to hide their displease regarding him.

"This is my wife, Lady Rhea Florent, my daughter Malora, and my daughter-in-law," the men pointed, at them. Malora. He remembers tales telling that the oldest daughter of Hightower being mad. "My daughter Leyla with her husband Ser Jon. My daughter Alysanne and her husband, Lord Arthur Ambrose. And my last two sons. Gunthor, who I think you already met during the discussion for our surrender, with his Lady wife Jeyne, and my youngest son Humfrey. He isn't married yet, but I hope to find him a wife soon."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Jaime replied politely.

"Yes, yes. However, I was hoping to tae some of your free time to talk about the future," Hightower said as they made their way toward the table.

"I'm all ears."

"Well, before that, allow me to ask a question. How could a boy of six and ten defeat the formidable lion of Castamere? Forgive this curiosity, Prince Jaime, but all Westeros was aware of the reputation of the Red lion while you were just a young Prince-"

"Skills beat everything, my lord. I was gifted for the sword," replied Jaime, not wanting to get in details about that with a stranger. "Now. Back to the important matters."

"Yes, yes. Well, my son informed me that you want to appoint a steward in old Town, with the army that will stay here, but that we will keep our towers and half of the trading profits," Leyton Hightower started, filling two goblets of wine, and giving him one.

Jaime, however, before taking a sip, turned his full attention to the lord, and seriously, replied, "Yes. Ser Lucion Lannister is going to be the Steward of Oldtown and he is going to marry a highborn lady from this land. I was hoping for one of your daughters, but as I can see all of them already are married."

Hightower, said nothing, as he looked at him with a pensive expression, for sure trying to read him, but strangely not trying to push him to agree for a marriage between Lynesse and Lucion.

"Well, we will see about that," the Lord replied, and at that moment, the great doors opened again and it was announced the arrival of new guests. Guests that he knew who were and that Jaime was waiting.

"Lord Paxter of House Redwyne and his lady wife, Lady Mina of House Tyrell, with their children Ser Horas, Ser Hobber, and Lady Desmera."

Her come the perfect lady that will become wife to Lucion, and that will bring to their side a great sea force. Taking a sip, Jaime headed towards the Lord of Arbor, smiling, and waving to Lucion to join him.

Hours later...

When he returned to the room given to him by Lord Hightower, Jaime found it strangely dark, having specifically asked for candles to be lit.

When he wanted to send for them to do their business, Jaime heard a moan coming from the inside of the room, and asked, "Who's there?" placing his hand on his sword. Damn! Why did he dismiss his guards and Kingsguard? Another moan came, as Jaime approached the bed, and slowly pulling out his sword. The canopy bed itself wasn't the way he left. The long drapers that before were tied now were opened, and covering all the bed.

Slowly, he pushed one of them aside and finally seeing who was there. Someone he didn't expect to find and especially that he didn't saw at the feast. Shamefully, he wonders his eyes over the girls naked body, taking into account her beauty. From the golden locks that left freely over her, downwards her full bosom, with already erected nipples begging to be sucked, till her cunt, that Jaime could see it was already wet, and with a few golden curls above.

Swallowing and licking his lips, pulling away the sword, Jaime said, "I think you are in the wrong room, my lady."

"I am? I thought these were the lion Prince's room," she, smirking replied, rising up, and her breast giggled at the movement.

Jaime was starting to struggle to resist, as his cock was begging to be freed and get inside that wet and for sure welcoming cunt, but he made an oath to his wife to never betray their marriage. Suddenly, because of him dwelling on his marriage, Jaime felt her hand on his breaches over his hardness and hears her say, "Ever since I was a little girl, I've heard the stories from the merchants about how Casterly Rock was full of gold. How the king himself was shitting gold and pissing golden fluid."

He looked at her, for a moment, seeing lust in her eyes, and at the same time danger, madness, and desire for richness. Untying his pants, she continued, "I wonder if your seed is golden too."

And it was at that moment that his wife appeared to him like a vision, begging him not to fall into this trap. So, shaking his head from this moment of bewitchment, Jaime grabbed the woman's hands, pulling them away, and taking one of his cloaks, he covered her.

"I'm a married man, my lady, and I love my wife. So I beg you to leave. I don't want for your father to find you naked in my room," Jaime said, helping her climb down from the bed, resulting in a mistake, since she took his hand and put it on her breast, squeezing it.

Jaime shamefully groped it for a few moments, loving the sensation and how they weren't fitting in his hand, before pulling away. "My lady. Do not do this. I warn you."

"Why? What are you going to do? Punish me?" she asked, smirking, with lips a few inches from his. "Then punish me, my conqueror."

'Seven gods help me. Make me desist from such temptation,' Jaime prayed to himself, with closed eyes, feeling her kiss his jaws, but pushing her away, he said, "I need rest and you need to leave."Before grabbing her elbow and leading her outside.

Slamming the door and now that he was alone, Jaime sighed, leaning against the door. What a great mistake he was about to do. He needs to leave this place as soon as possible. But first, he needs some rest and a release.